These Dark Endeavors
by Mxntally ill
Summary: Set in a Victorian era, Jace Herondale and his "family" the Lightwoods aren't normal. However they live on "normal" lives. In a time of struggles something unusual in the Supernatural world happens and it reminds the group that their lives are and will continue to be unpredictable.
1. Chapter 1

**These Dark Endeavors**

AN: Please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes.

France, 1645

 _Prologue_

They all stood with impatient ears pressed against the wooden door eager to grasp whatever information they could find. Not-so-quiet whispers were spoken between the groups of young men; all exceptionably good looking. The eldest of the group, had found an opening in the door way, catching a glimpse of the event unfolding before him. Even with all the grand suits and dresses made from the finest silk he was only content on seeing one thing. Lord Valentine Morgenstern. Everyone throughout the town feared him. They said he was ruthless, he was cold and uncaring, and that he was incapable of emotions. No one except the kings and queens from the grandest of places knew his face. There were no monuments nor did portraits of him display anywhere. The villagers only could recognize him by one thing, his carriage. Even his presence was enough to shock everyone through silence. Stories were told about his grand carriage, according to some, the pure white marble came straight from the Greek Gods or the gold was touched by Caesar himself, nevertheless they were all myths to be laughed at because Lord Valentine had lived even longer than that. But the eager spies wanted to see the true form of the legend themselves. Across the room cautious eyes peered at the man cloaked in black velvets, only to be met by the suitor himself. Black onyx eyes stared coldly at the boy and the boy returned a glare with just as venom. Valentine felt his eyes narrow at the boy stupid enough to even consider looking at his direction, but also felt recognition of his human self in the stranger. He felt his thin lips tilting upwards at the sense of something exciting was about to happen. The young man felt intimidated by the chalk white man his stale, unmoving appearance gave an aura of unease towards him. Something about him was….off. It was only then did the boy realize he was alone... Or so he thought. The beat of polished leather shoes pounded against the patterned stone alerting Jace there was a visitor. He felt his muscles tense at the supposed intruder; if anyone caught him he would be beheaded. He was a simple serf, a peasant unfit for the pleasures of high society. He felt a presence behind him and he was welcomed with the same soulless eyes that challenged him earlier. His youthful face began shine with sweat and he felt stones building up in his throat. He was nervous. The man was just so…. _unnerving_. The chalk man pulled his blood red lips back with a sneer "what are doing here _boy_ ". The lad felt a spark of anger towards the inferior bastard. He wasn't a boy he was a _man._ He was about to give a smart retort but a loud _crack_ prevented him from speaking out loud his rude insults. The man's hands were right next to his face blocking from anyway of escaping. The movement was so fast he couldn't even register how they got there in the first place. "ANSWER MY QUESTION YOU BOY!" and without any opportunity to answer he felt a sharp burning pain in his neck. And the last thing he saw was red blood streaking against white, his blood before his whole world turned black.

London, 1887

The air resonated with a dark silence; there was something out there, something dark, something unworldly, and unnatural. The night sky was painted over with a gust of grey clouds and nothing but the mysterious moon lit the cobblestone pathway ahead. Rain from earlier settled in every crevice and dip, creating reflections of grand wooden cathedrals. It was like this every night. Fear leaving everyone restless and paranoid, the inescapable feeling of evil lurking in shadows and the very thought of never getting to see morning ever again. Tonight was different, the feeling of unease still masked over the town, but something curious was left on the steps of an old abandoned Church. A bundle of dirtied yellow cloth, and inside was something alive and thriving, kicking at the tight fabric encased around it. At the other end of the street was a young man holding cane made of pure marble, his face obscured by silk top hat he was wearing. He seemed to drowning in cloths but underneath his taut muscles was obvious, making an intimidating effect. He whistled a melancholy tune while allowing his finely polished cane to leave a constant beat against the stone tiles, echoing throughout the quite night, leaving a certain message _I have the power here._ His gold eyes were rimmed red from alcohol and his breath was stale but he still somehow remained alert as ever. His sharp senses could pick out anything through the fog, at least not everything. He was expecting another boring day but was greeted with something unusual in front of his "home". At first it seemed as if it was just a piece of tattered yellow cloth but then he realized… _A baby! Probably just a whore's child and only few months old_. Bending over to take a closer look he spotted a note tucked hidden underneath the cloth. His original plans of ridding the baby had soon diffused once he read it.

This child needs your protection and needs to be kept hidden

Her name is Clarissa

Keep her safe and away from Valentine

I will return for her when the time is ready

-Love, her mum Jocelyn

 _Valentine!_ Jace examined the note over and over again making sure he read everything correctly. Upon closer inspection he could see the child was covered in filth but underneath all that he could still see the innocent beauty she held. Swiftly he cradled the child in his arms and she began to stir, he cooed her, praying she wouldn't attract attention. It was the last thing she needed; he felt the drumming of her heart through his unbeating chest and almost felt human again. He felt alive. He felt something he never thought he would ever be able to feel again; something that was locked away in the deep dark maze of his mind, something that was taken away ever since his humanity was stolen from him, ever since he became a _monster._ He knew he wasn't supposed to feel this but he couldn't help it. He felt hope. Springing open a stream of light in his hollow darkness, breaking down barriers he'd held for so long and making him everything but dead _._ After a night of drunken shouts and bruising laughter all he could maintain was a whisper. He said the name of baby." Clarissa". He felt himself being sentimental, _no, not here_ before he could change his mind to leave he felt his body move automatically bringing her into a place of warmth and safety.

AN: I would love some reviews…. negative or positive. I'd like to know what i should work on.


	2. Chapter 2

"JACE HERONDALE! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" Isabelle Lightwood a rare diamond, sleek black hair and pearled skin smoother than milk, she was an obvious splendor, sacred and luring. The beauty felt herself panicking at the situation at hand; normally she was graceful and collected, she prided herself upon that but it seemed like Jace was one of the only ones who could make her stir a frenzy…. and not in a good way. He gave her headaches to say the least; he was insufferable and always caused trouble. He was a Herondale and she couldn't stand him. She was reckless, yes but when it concerned others she was cautious of her actions whereas Jace never cared. He made her angry and bashful, the exact opposite of a lady. Isabelle Lightwood was graceful. Isabelle Lightwood was proper. Isabelle Lightwood was about to murder a Herondale. But even as a Herondale Izzy still loved him just like any sister would, a kind of love that involved bashing heads into brick walls. She had three brothers; she was the only girl and had a hard time being patient with them. Her Eldest brother Alec wasn't as immoral as Jace but he however never helped either ; he was just so calm in circumstances like these, the kind of calm Isabelle wished to be (most of which concerned Jace), which infuriated her even more. She swore these boys would be the death of her… if she wasn't already dead, but just when she was about to regain ever so ladylike behavior the wise Alec had to add on his brotherly advice. "Izzy please behave I'm sure Jace has an explanation". God how he made her mad. He could see Izzy's concerned expression through her black charcoal eyes, it displayed the kind of concern a mother had for a child; it was the only part of her the family saw, loving and caring. A majority of the time she was a stone statue stuck in a state of emotionless unrest but Isabelle still had some humanity left in her and just like any other with humanity she never dealt with all situations well. He knew she meant the best but she wasn't an expert with emotions… none of them were. Especially Jace.

Jace was an interesting man of sorts, he didn't respond to Isabelle's continuous string of insults only because it made her even angrier and he found that downright entertaining. All Jace knew was that whenever Isabelle was angry which he could always be accounted for, he knew how amusing it was. As a matter of fact throughout this whole ordeal he'd nearly forgotten what had caused it. "It's a baby Isabelle, and she has a name, surely you've seen a baby before". He had said in his usual joking manner, just to bring some light into the situation mainly because the Lightwood siblings were horrible with humor, well just his kind. It was Alec's turn to speak again. His tone voiced concern. His brother was always worried "The question is Jace…. Why do you have one in the first place?" but as his best friend he at least expected him to ask a better question "Because I love collecting babies Alec"-

"JACE SHUT UP!" Alec rarely raised his voice but when he did, he was serious. His brother, usually calm and patient had rage flurrying within his eyes. They were blue, but a rare kind translucent and filled with depth like bottle glass. He was hard to read emotionally but when he was mad it was obvious. Red tinged his cheeks and his once slouching posture had straightened into a figure that required authority. This was a rare state to see Alec. One with power. Why was he mad? It was just a baby and nothing more. He was acting as if Jace had asked him to have intercourse with a drevak demon. "I can't have this here, no, not at all, I usually have the ability to tolerate your pathetic schemes but not when it involves the life a _child,_ and the fact that she is only a few months old proves my argument, she is an innocent girl who needs to be returned into the mundane world where she belongs!"

Oh but only if he knew…. Jace only gave a sly smile back. A smile that said _I have a secret, and you need me to figure it out._ "Ah, I wish I could do just that but this baby seems to have relations with our infamous Valentine and it doesn't appear very bright to leave something as valuable as her in the filth of the mundane world." Words couldn't describe the amount of hate Alec and Isabelle felt towards the pompous weasel currently that paled in comparison to the shock they felt. After a thick silence Isabelle interrupted with a series of "what's and how's and whys. The only response given to her was the exact same note provided to Jace. It was clearly in connection to the lower class. The note was of low quality paper and it was written in a hurry. Black ink blended together into unrecognizable handwriting only those with inhuman vision could be able to read what was on it. This Jocelyn woman whoever she was knew who and who wasn't capable of reading it.

This Jocelyn woman was a problem within itself. How did she know about Valentine if she was a mundane? As if reading everyone's mind including his own, Jace attempted to answer the question that was begging to be solved. "I believe she may have been his sire" a common thing for manipulative men like Valentine. "No" said Alec "if she were his sire she wouldn't of had a baby… to be a sire she had to have been wholly devoted to Valentine and with a child she clearly wasn't". "Then what do any of you idiots have that is anything useful?" Isabelle said "her mother most likely is dead so in that case the question seems useless because the only thing I'm concerned with is how we are going to take care of a baby!" Izzy's sudden commotion caused the baby to wake and earned a distasteful look from Jace.

Emerald green eyes blinked open and took in their different surroundings. Different arrays of color crossed her vision gold, black, and blue all new to her. None of them were her mother's and that made her cry. She didn't see green eyes or red hair. Tears blurred her sight and her tiny mouth began to quiver just before a high pitched wail escaped. Her mind was simple so all she could register was that she was sad. She wanted her mum. She needed comfort.

Isabelle vaguely remembered when she desired a life with children but after hearing the baby cry she immediately recalled why she didn't follow through with that desire. Although she knew that if she ever had become a mother her children wouldn't of have been as noisy as the little mongrel Jace held in his arms. "You scared her Isabelle; no wonder children refer to you a haggard old wench". Jace began to comfort the infant's distress with words of sweetness and gentle hands. It was such a rare factor to see him this way it left the dark-haired sibling wordless, but Isabelle's speechlessness also had to do with the fact children called her "haggard old wench". On the other hand Jace was never this nice, when children came up to him he would usually yell and flail his arms around like a buffoon making them cry while earning objectionable frowns from parents. What made this child different despite her bothersome crying was a mystery to him but he felt himself drawn towards her. And he hated it. He wasn't supposed to feel he was taught that, it was so mentally ingrained in his mind it was as easy as breathing. _To love is to destroy_ him of all people should know that yet he felt sympathy towards the baby and from that point he knew what he had to do.


End file.
